Hazardous Afternoons
by Calypso Diangelos
Summary: An afternoon in the life of someone who learns an unorthodox lesson the hard way…


The Hazards of Climbing a Tree in Armor

By: Calypso

Summary: An afternoon in the life of someone who learns an unorthodox lesson the hard way… 

Disclaimer: If I owned it I wouldn't be writing fanfic now would I?

AN: My explanation of why Legolas doesn't wear armor in the ROTK movie.

Please excuse my medical terminology; I'm not sure what elven anatomy is so I've used human anatomy terms on elves. Read on, I hope this amuses – oh and in case you stop mid sentence **this is not a Mary Sue; the only female character is one established by Tolkien. **

This was supposed to be humor… but it didn't quite work out that way. 

~ ~ ~

"Block!" 

The shout elicited an automatic response. Across the practice field Thranduil's youngest son immediately raised his sword, almost too late to ward off the oncoming blow. 

"Pay attention son!" 

Wincing, Legolas backed away the caption of his father's guard - switching his sword from his badly jarred right arm to his less agile left as he walked. Seeing an opening Aegnor, captain of the royal guard, lunged in and disarmed the young prince in a single movement. Chuckling grimly at how nonchalantly the young man accepted the loss.  He was about to chasten his student when Thranduil arrived at their side and beat him to it. 

"I told you to pay attention! What if you had been fighting an Orc?" Despite his harsh words, concern was written in Thranduil's eyes as he watched his son move his shoulder back and forth within his armor. 

Mentally rolling his eyes, Legolas bowed to his father, "Forgive me for being so easily distracted."  Suppressing a grimace, Legolas turned slightly and executed another more formal bow. "May I be dismissed Aegnor? My shoulder is troubling me." The teacher nodded before Thranduil could protest and Legolas quickly left the practice field; eager to escape. 

"That boy..." Had Thranduil been human, he would've clicked his tongue, being an elf however he simply shook his head.  Giving his king an appraising look, Aegnor tentatively opened his mouth. 

"Highness, you son is not _easily distracted as he claims… nor is he a bad swordsmen… he simply does not care." Seeing surprise but not reproach on his sovereign's face, Aegnor dared to continue. "He has learned what I've tried to teach him, but I do not believe that Prince Legolas regards swordplay as anything other than a necessity. He will master it to the extent that he may defend himself, but I doubt that he will ever attempt to do any more than that. And with the visiting contingent from Lorien here…"    _

Thranduil nodded all too knowingly, a wisp of a smile upon his face. He was a hard king; but a gentle father. One who accepted the strengths and weaknesses of his children for what they were. "Thank the Valar he's an able archer." Turning to his old friend, Thranduil picked up his son's hastily discarded sword. "So, now that we've discovered how the princeling fares with a sword, let's see what his old father can do." 

~ ~ ~ 

Walking through the grove that led away from the outdoor practice fields towards the forest and stables, Legolas tried to massage his aching shoulder; a task greatly hindered by the armor he wore over it. Having just reached his majority not many decades ago, the armor was still new by elven standards and not yet broken in enough so that he was accustomed to wearing it. "Will you be alright?" Immersed in his thoughts, Legolas did not realize that there was someone with him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that a heavily veiled elf maid stood not too far from him. In the back of his mind, he recalled that she had been near the practice fields earlier watching them spar. _She must be one of our visitors from Lorien,_ he thought, _I wonder why she veils even her hair…_

"I will be fine lady; it is most likely just a bruise. I thank you for your concern but it is grievously misplaced." Politely, he bowed to her. This time, he was unable to suppress his grimace of pain. Noting this, she walked towards him and had reached his side before he could manage to straighten himself completely. 

"It most certainly isn't just a bruise," glancing at him through her veil, she dared him to contradict her, "I saw how badly your arm was jarred. Your shoulder is probably beginning to swell and I'm willing to bet that it's at least partially dislocated. Hopefully none of your tendons or ligaments have been torn." 

For a moment, Legolas was too stunned to speak. He wasn't sure which surprised him more, the lady's knowledge of medicine (she dressed far too frivolously to be a healer) or the fact that she had begun to unlace and remove his armor without asking if he minded. Standing a head taller than her, he noticed that he could see through her veil when glancing downward. 

"Your hair!" Her hair was a dark chestnut brown, highly unlike the Silven elves of Lothlorien; hair of a color he had never seen on an elf. Impulsively, he reached out to touch it, causing her to look up in surprise. It was then that he noticed she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. 

Seeing his stare and thinking that she had been found out, Arwen Evenstar was uncertain of what to say. "I was visiting my grandparents in Lothlorien… I only wanted to see what Mirkwood was like… our fathers being on such bad terms I thought that…" Arwen realized that she was blubbering in a most unladylike fashion – and not exactly representing Ilmadris in the most positive of lights. Taking a deep breath she tried to form a coherent sentence. 

"I…"   

"You're…" 

The two both paused; awkwardly since neither was sure what the other had intended to say. Suddenly, the implications of Arwen's jumbled sentence struck Legolas; causing him to speak without thinking. "You're Peredhil's daughter!" Then as an afterthought, as if embarrassed by blurting out his thoughts, he smiled and added, "I suppose that's why you hide such a beautiful face behind a veil." 

Oddly enough, it wasn't his first comment but his second that angered Arwen. Suddenly letting go of his arm (but still holding on to part of his shoulder piece) she brought her arm down. "I hardly hide my face in shame! I simply don't enjoy – oh!" Legolas' face had twisted into an ugly grimace; by letting go of his arm but not the armor she had pulled it partially down his arm causing the metal plate to dig sharply into his already injured shoulder. Quickly, she let go and resumed removing the armor from his arm and shoulder area; her anger forgotten. For his part, Legolas was glad that she hadn't simply continued to pull on the armor – he wasn't sure how much longer he could've gone without crying out in a pain – something he had been taught Prince's did _not do. Then, suddenly, he felt a searing pain in his shoulder and would have pulled away from her had he not been weighed down by the armor he was still wearing. _

"I've reset your shoulder. There may be some bruising or swelling but it should be fine now." Her voice floated lightly over his shoulder, laced with amusement. 

"Thank you." He muttered through gritted teeth. She didn't acknowledge his thanks one way or the other; she simply stated in a matter of fact tone that her father was a gifted healer and that she'd learned one or two things from him. 

Stepping away from her, Legolas made as if to bow again but stopped in mid movement realizing how ridiculously formal the gesture was. Smoothly, he transferred the movement from a bow to a bending over in order to retrieve his shoulder plate and vembrace from where she had discarded them on the floor. Thinking he was going to put them back on, Arwen quickly took them from his hands. "I'll do that." When she had finished reattaching his armor, Arwen looked at Legolas expectantly.

Legolas, who had not intended to re-don the stifling armor, was unsure of what to say. He did not deem court formality appropriate for the situation, and yet he did not know the lady well enough to treat her with the easy familiarity he did family friends or his sisters. Luckily, Arwen was more at ease. In fact, her reaction to his silence was to laugh – largely because his thoughts were written quite obviously on his face.

"You look just as my brother Elladan does when father informs him that he shall have entertain a certain young lady or attend a social gathering without Elrohir."

The tension was broken and after a few moments of idle chatter, the two parted ways, Arwen towards the stables and Legolas for the edge of the forest.

~ ~ ~

Moments later, Legolas found himself in an unusual predicament. He was halfway up a tree, but uncertain whether he ought to be moving up or down. The armor kept on catching on the bark and made his movement's clumsy. He would've stripped off the armor and dropped it to the ground; but he knew better than to mistreat something so carefully made. If he slid down the trunk; he would harm the tree. If he continued to climb up; he might harm himself. After mentally flipping a coin (or performing the middle earth equivalent) he decided to continue; after the difficult day he had had he saw no reason not to indulge in a few moments of peace and quiet.

Swinging his lower body (somewhat clumsily) onto a higher branch, Legolas leaned against the trunk of the tree and lay his legs out along the fairly thick branch. For a few short seconds he closed his eyes; savoring the sounds of the forest and the beauty around him. Sweeping his gaze across his woodland home, he saw Arwen lead a horse out of the stables and mount it. For some minutes he simply watched her ride around the clearing near the stables which had been newly made a few millennia earlier for riding practice. 

Strangely, Arwen seemed to sense his eyes and looked in the direction of the woods; through her veil, she noticed the sunlight glint off of what appeared to be a tree. After a second of puzzlement Arwen realized that someone had probably climbed into it wearing armor. _Father always warned Elladan and Elrohir not to climb trees in Armor, she thought to herself, _perhaps I ought to warn whoever's in that tree._ _

Meanwhile, being at last comfortable, Legolas turned his attention to the sky and simply watched the clouds. Caught up in the beauty of the day, he did not notice the branch beneath beginning to give until it was too late. For a short instant he had the weightless sensation of being suspended in air.

**CRASH! **

The sound boomed through the forest and against the palace. Arwen, who saw rather than heard the branch break from the tree immediately began to direct her panicking horse in the general direction of the noise; thinking that whoever was there might need her help. "Prince Greenleaf!" 

Dismounting from her horse, she found Legolas lying flat on his back on the ground; his limbs tangled with tree branches at odd angles so that he looked a trussed up roasting foul. He didn't seem to see her and only blinked when she called his name. His hair, tangled in the underbrush and darkened by bits of dirt that had flown into it made for a ridiculous sight. 

Suddenly, unbidden, an undaughterly thought entered Arwen's mind and, unable to help herself, Arwen began laughing uncontrollably. 

Her laughter seemed to bring Legolas back from wherever his mind had gone, noting his ridiculous circumstance, he turned to her with a flushed face. "Am I _really so amusing?" Arwen, who could only shake her head, was incapable of answering. In her head, there was only one thought: _

_If father knew the dangers of a climbing a tree in armor… which tree did **he** fall out of?_

~ Fini ~


End file.
